The Night of the Still Waters
by the lurker
Summary: Sequel to The Night of the Fallen Heart, and to the episode Night of the Big Blast. Jim goes to Arizona to find Artie.
1. Chapter One

The Wild, Wild West "The Night of the Still Waters" by the lurker  
  
Jim stood on the porch of the small Inn located in Flagstaff, Arizona. It was quarter to six in the morning, and the sun was just trying to peek out above the horizon. The view from the Inn was glorious on a clear day; but on this particular day, a summer storm was moving in. The sky was filled with the many different colors of the desert. Blues, reds, oranges, yellows and tints of pink dotted the waking sky, darting in between the clouds of grey. West drained the last of the coffee from his cup and walked back inside.  
  
He set the cup down on a nearby table, picked up his hat and saddle bag and was on his way out when the lilting voice stopped him.  
  
"On your way already Mr. West?"  
  
"Yes ma'am, I am."  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to hire a guide? These parts can be treacherous if you're not familiar with the canyons."  
  
"Thank you, but I'll be fine."  
  
He nodded to the young woman and walked out the door. Jim went to the stable, saddled his horse and headed south. All the information he had gathered indicated that Artie had been in Sedona for about a month, camping in the different canyons and deserts, after that he had been seen traveling north toward Flagstaff. Jim decided to start north and head south, figuring he would find him somewhere in between. The biggest problem was the fact that Arizona was not a small state, and the infinite amount of areas a man could camp, made a search almost impractical if not impossible.  
  
Still, Jim had to try. He hadn't seen Artie since the night in Lily's dressing room, when she told him she wouldn't marry him. Several days later, Gordon had sent a message on the telegraph saying that he was taking some time off, to go camping in Sedona. Artie had indicated that he planned to be back in about a month; but that was more than two months ago. While Jim knew it was possible that Artie was just too emotionally torn up to handle their type of work at the moment, he also felt confident that the man would have let him know. Something had happened to him, and Jim had no more patience for waiting.  
  
*********** 


	2. Chapter Two

Jim had been riding for three hours when he realized he and his horse needed a break from the heat. He studied the terrain and headed toward a cluster of rocks that offered a little bit of shade. West dismounted and pulled his canteen off the saddle, taking a swig of the water. He cupped his hand, poured a little water in it, and placed it under his horse's nose. The animal lapped it up. Jim repeated the procedure a few more times, and then put the canteen away. It was the beginning of July, and the desert was hot. It was at least fortunate that he was in the Flagstaff area; it was almost always close to twenty degrees cooler than Sedona.  
  
His brow furrowed in worry. Several days of exposure to this kind of heat could kill a man. He prayed that wherever Artie was, he wasn't without protection from the sun. Jim sat down in the shade for a few minutes and his mind wandered to the questions that had plagued him for the past several weeks. He knew Lily had broken Artie's heart, but Artemus Gordon wasn't a man who was likely to just wither up and die because a woman he loved thwarted him. Still, Jim felt concern deep in his gut; maybe he had misjudged how badly Artie was going to take it. And just maybe it was something Artie couldn't take.  
  
No, he refused to believe that. It was far more likely that something unforeseen had happened to his partner, although hat thought gave him no more comfort than the previous one. Jim stood, patted his horse on the neck, and jumped up into the saddle. His search would continue until he had some answers.  
  
*********** 


	3. Chapter Three

He had only intended to take a month away from the Secret Service and his many responsibilities; but one month had stretched into two, and now toward three. Between the overgrown beard, the clothes that were more appropriate to a miner as opposed to a gentleman, and his overly thin frame, he doubted any of them would recognize him, even Jim. He had dropped a good twenty- five pounds since his partner had last seen him. On some level Artie knew he should be concerned with how much weight he had lost, but in the end, he didn't care.  
  
His beard itched. It was largely the reason he had never worn one. It drove him nuts, the constant need to scratch. He always knew the real thing wouldn't be any better than the fake ones he regularly affixed to his face with spirit gum as a matter of course for his job. His job. It really wasn't his job anymore. Somewhere along the way, he had made the decision not to return; and he had not paid the courtesy to Richmond, West or the President by officially informing them. Instead, he had simply disappeared into the pine needles and forests of Northern Arizona. He felt a pang of guilt, especially about Jim, but he couldn't risk the possibility that one of them might talk him back into the Service that had cost him the love of his life.  
  
Lily. The thought of her still struck a chord of hollowness in his belly. He wondered what she was doing, if she was in a show or on vacation. He wondered if she missed him, or if she ever even thought of him. It was painful to believe that she might have been able to just walk away from him without so much as a thought of regret. His heart ached for one glimpse of her, for a small whiff of her perfume, or one brief brush of her lips against his. Artie looked to the ground as he felt the familiar sting of tears. They invariably came when his mind turned to Lil.  
  
He mounted his chestnut and rode north. He needed to find some temporary work so he could replenish his supplies. It wasn't usually difficult. Most towns liked drifters who would perform menial tasks for a day or two for a small fee, which the men usually spent in that same town on alcohol or supplies. It was a matter of sound economics for the townspeople. Artie headed west toward Paulden. It was a village he hadn't yet seen, and small enough that no one would pay him any mind. He found he liked anonymity.  
  
The thought of Jim passed through his head once again. Artie wished he could talk to his friend, if for only a brief moment or two, and explain why he couldn't continue as an agent. But he knew that such a contact might become problematic; or perhaps he just didn't have the courage to face his best friend. He suspected it was the latter. But nonetheless, he worried about West, like an older sibling would worry for his younger, wilder brother. He hoped Jim was taking care of himself.  
  
********** 


	4. Chapter Four

West had been riding for three days, and was well into the Grand Canyon Cavern area in his search for Artie, when the sky opened up with the worst thunder and lightning storm he had ever seen. Jim kicked his horse into a faster gear and rode for a canyon wall, and hopefully a cave for cover. He found a small cavern in a crevice on the western face. He dismounted, entered the cave, and pulled his horse in after him. It was an extremely tight fit. Jim pulled his canteen off from the saddle horn and took a few swigs. He poured some into his hand and let his horse drink, then Jim placed the open canteen propped up just outside the mouth of the cave. It wouldn't take long for it to fill given the rate of rainfall.  
  
He figured he might as well get some sleep; there was nothing else he could do during a storm of this magnitude. The thunder cracked loudly, and a second later the lightening filled the sky and flashed in front of the cave. Jim removed the saddle from his horse, placing it on the floor, following suit with the reins and bit. After he was satisfied that his horse was more comfortable, West removed his hat and lay down on the floor, his head leaning on the saddle. Within minutes he was asleep.  
  
The storm outside continued to build.  
  
***********


	5. Chapter Five

Artie had been in Paulden for a day and a half, and it hadn't yet stopped storming. He had picked up some work in the local saloon as a handyman. There were several things that were in need of repair, and there was a lot of general cleaning. It had kept him busy, and the woman who owned the saloon had agreed to pay him a dollar a day. He would be able to purchase enough supplies to last at least six weeks.  
  
The fact that he was in less than his best physical condition was becoming painfully obvious to Artie. Everything hurt. He stopped mopping for a moment and straightened up, catching a glance of himself in a nearby mirror. The eyes that stared back at him were familiar, but other than that, he didn't recognize the image he saw. He looked so much older, the amount of grey in his beard was somewhat of a shock, and his formerly erect posture had begun to slump slightly. The life he was currently living was a lot harder on his body than his former one; at least on an every day measure. The Service might be more dangerous overall, but this kind of living was taking a toll. It gave Artie a new understanding of why men of hard labor aged so quickly. The sweet voice from the top of the stairs grabbed his attention.  
  
"Mr. Morgan? Is everything all right?"  
  
He turned away from the apparition in the mirror and smiled, some of his old charm seeping in, "Why Miss Noreen, of course it is, but thank you for asking."  
  
The woman sauntered toward him, "You look.....haunted, Mr. Morgan."  
  
Artie drew in a calming breath, "Not at all, Miss Noreen, I just haven't seen my own reflection in awhile. Let's just say it came as a bit of a shock."  
  
"I don't see a thing wrong with it...."  
  
He grinned at her, "Why Miss Noreen, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were flirting with me."  
  
She smiled seductively and headed toward the stairs, "At least you're smart enough not to know better."  
  
Noreen disappeared down the staircase, leaving Artie to ponder her play on words. He glanced once more into the mirror. There was one thing of which he was sure: no one from his former life would know him. And there was a certain amount of comfort in that.  
  
*********** 


	6. Chapter Six

Jim awoke with a start, the summer storm outside still raging. He felt disoriented, not knowing how long he'd been asleep, nor for a moment, where he was; and then it came back to him. He glanced at his pocket watch, and shook his head. It was almost noon. Jim stood and stretched, patting his horse on the neck. The weather was dismal, but they were going to have to brave it. Sitting around and waiting wasn't going to find Artemus.  
  
West put his saddle on his horse, and hooked up the rein and bit. He leaned outside of the cave mouth and picked up his now full canteen, capping it and replacing it on the saddle horn. He put his hat on, and then pulled his horse out into the rain. A loud thunder clap caused the horse to raise his front legs, but Jim calmed him.  
  
"Easy boy, take it easy, it's just the thunder."  
  
Jim mounted the horse and took off back the way he had come. There was no telling how long the thunder and lightening was going to last, and the best thing he could do was head toward a town. West remembered a small village to the east that he had stopped in on his way into the Canyon. Another loud clap of thunder echoed across the sky, followed by a lightening bolt that seemed a lot closer than Jim would have liked. He hoped Artie wasn't lost out in the middle of all of it.  
  
*********** 


	7. Chapter Seven

Gordon sat in the chair, staring out the window. It was late in the afternoon, but the darkness of the clouds made it seem even later. He couldn't remember ever watching a summer storm of such magnitude. A strong rumble of thunder rattled the window pane; it reminded him of the dynamite barrages of the war. And despite the warm humidity in the air, Artie shivered. He hadn't thought of his army service in a long time, and the memory unsettled him. A bright streak of lightening flashed in the sky, illuminating the room with an eerie glow.   
  
He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wood of the chair. He was tired, and within minutes, asleep.....  
  
_They gracefully moved across the dance floor, their bodies fluidly melding into one. Her face was lit up with a contented happiness as she gazed warmly into his eyes. He loved the sensuous contour of her neck, the regal line of her profile, and the fullness of her lips. For a moment he was transfixed by the ruby sheen of them, and all he could think of doing was kissing her. Artie pulled her closer into him as they waltzed, and Lilly pressed herself further against the length of him, feeling safe in the strength of his arms. The music ended, and with her hand wrapped through his elbow, they made their way out to the balcony.  
  
She leaned against the iron rail, staring up into the sky. Gordon stood closely behind her, his hands gently resting on her shoulders. He breathed in the smell of her hair; it was like a fresh bouquet of magnolias. He leaned in closer, allowing his head to rest against hers.  
  
It's such a lovely night. Look at that moon, Artemus....  
  
He turned her to face him, holding her hands gently in his larger ones, a wistful smile lighting his lips.  
  
It all pales next to you.  
  
Oh Artemus, you are the silver-tongued devil I knew in High School, aren't you?  
  
It doesn't take a talented orator to speak the truth, Lil.  
  
Artie leaned down and gently brushed his lips to hers, pulling away slightly, then lightly grazing them again. He repeated the process and a moan of pleasure escaped from Lily's throat. He broke away once more, long enough to look into her eyes; finding only love in them, Artie wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. He covered her mouth with his, tenderly kissing her. He felt her arms wrap around his back as her mouth opened wider to him. He deepened the kiss and Lily responded by pressing herself into him. Artie became aware of his body's natural reaction, and he started to break away.  
  
Lily pulled his lips back toward hers with her hands on either side of his face, No, don't stop.  
  
Their lips were so close, he could feel their warmth, Lily, I don't think--  
  
--Artemus, don't try to reason this out. Just kiss me.  
  
He could feel her breath brushing his wet lips, and he felt himself leaning ever closer.  
  
His whisper was almost a moan, Oh Lil....  
  
Her timbre was lowered with ardor, Kiss me, Artemus...  
  
Artie closed his eyes and lightly touched her lips with his, once again lost to the feel of wet velvet.....  
  
_Artemus jerked awake in the chair, startled to find Noreen shaking his shoulder.  
  
Are you all right, Mr. Morgan?  
  
Still groggy from slumber, Artie mumbled,   
  
You were moaning in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were not ill.  
  
Shaking the cobwebs from his head, Artie focused on her eyes, No, I'm fine. I'm sorry if I caused you concern.  
  
Noreen took a good look at the man; a fine sheen of sweat had broken out across his forehead, and his color had paled considerably. She gently brushed back the stray lock of hair that had fallen into his face, and before she could cup his bearded chin, Artie had instinctively broken away. The delicate woman backed off slightly, embarrassed. Gordon looked down, rattled by his negative reaction.  
  
His voice was a mere whisper, I'm so sorry, Miss Noreen, I didn't mean--  
  
--It's quite all right, Mr. Morgan. It is I who should apologize. I was much too forward, I'm very sorry.  
  
Before Artie could say anything else, Noreen Macrae had vacated the room, closing the door behind her. He exhaled a breath of air. He was sorry that he reacted the way he had when she touched him, but it had surprised him, and he couldn't bear for a woman other than Lil to show him tenderness. It only served to remind him of what he had lost. As the tears welled up in the dark chocolate eyes, Artie turned to face the window. The storm continued to rage on, the rain pounding the roof, the lightening charging through his room. He tried to stop the rain falling from his eyes, but he had no more control over that than he had over what fell outside.  
  
***********


	8. Chapter Eight

West was soaked by the time he rode into Paulden. It was late, and most of the town was closed up for the night. He saw a light on in the saloon, and decided that would be his best shot to get out of the rain. He dropped his horse off at the nearby stable, quickly pulling off the wet saddle, bit and rein. He covered his horse with a blanket, gave him some hay and water, and then made his way toward the bar.   
  
There were very few people in the saloon, but they all looked up when Jim entered. A couple of old guys were in the corner putting away a bottle of whiskey; there was a pretty woman standing near the end of the bar, talking to the bartender; and a few young fellas were playing poker at a table. Jim smiled and headed toward the bar. The barkeep heading over to him.  
  
What can I getcha?  
  
A whiskey please, and maybe some information.  
  
The barkeep poured a shot of whiskey and placed it in front of West.  
  
What kinda information are ya lookin' for?  
  
I need a place to stay for the night, is there an boarding house in this town?  
  
The woman moved toward West, The only Inn is on the second floor of this saloon, Mister. Rooms are six dollars a week, or a dollar a night.  
  
Fine then, I'd like a room for the night, Miss......  
  
Noreen Macrae, Mr.....?  
  
West. James West.  
  
Very well, Mr. West. When you're ready, let me know.  
  
Jim downed his shot, and pulled a dollar from his pocket, handing it to the woman.  
  
I'm ready now, if it's convenient, Miss Macrae. It's been a long day.  
  
Fine. Follow me.  
  
Jim followed Macrae up the stairs and down the hall to his room. She opened the door, showing him the room.  
  
This is your room, and the door at the end of the hall, you'll find the bath.  
  
It will do nicely, Miss Macrae, thank you.  
  
He lingered for a moment, and Noreen looked at him curiously.  
  
Is there something else you need, Mr. West?  
  
Well since this is the only place to stay in Paulden, I was wondering if a friend of mine had passed through. His name is Mr. Gordon. He's got dark hair and eyes, weighs about 180, and stands about six feet.  
  
A gentleman like yourself is he?  
  
Yes, that's right.  
  
Afraid I haven't seen anyone like that passin' through.  
  
It's very important, Miss Macrae; are you sure?  
  
Oh yes, I would have remembered another gentleman like you, Mr. West, and no one has given the name Gordon. We get mostly miners and drifters in these parts.  
  
Jim shrugged, I had to ask. Thank you, Miss Macrae, good night.  
  
Good night, Mr. West, sleep well.  
  
Jim walked into his room, closing the door behind him.  
  
***********  
  
Artie tossed in his sleep, half awake. Somewhere in the twilight of his mind, he thought he heard Jim's voice. And he thought it was out in the hallway. The sound of a door closing and rustling in the room next to his brought Gordon all the way out of slumber. He sat up, drenched in sweat. The humidity had increased as the rain outside continued to pelt the roof. Slowly Artie stood and walked over to the dresser. He poured some water from the pitcher into the basin, and splashed some on his face. It felt cool against his warm skin.   
  
He shook his head, still haunted by the voice he thought he had heard. Artie watched his reflection staring back at him, and he noticed the dark circles under his own eyes. He looked terrible; nothing like the man he had been three months before. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled and he realized he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He wondered if Noreen or Bill the barkeep were still up. He pulled his pants and shirt on and headed downstairs.  
  
Noreen was just extinguishing the lights when he hit the first floor landing. She saw him and worry ran through her.  
  
Mr. Morgan, what are you doing up this late?  
  
I'm sorry Miss Noreen.... I woke up and my stomach was growling at me. Artie felt a little awkward, Listen, about before, I'm really sorry.  
  
Noreen looked into the sunken brown eyes, You seemed very......startled.  
  
Artie looked away, I just wasn't expecting anyone to be that nice to me is all. He looked into her eyes and some of his charm seeped through, Forgive me?  
  
Come on, let's see what's in the kitchen.  
  
He followed her into the kitchen, sat down in a chair and watched her make a sandwich. She put it on a plate and placed it in front of him.  
  
Would you like some water, or a cup of coffee?  
  
He smiled, I'd love some coffee, if it isn't too much trouble.  
  
Not at all, I could use one myself.  
  
He watched her go about the business of fixing some coffee, and he found himself finding similarities between Noreen and Lily. She moved with a similar grace, and her hands had the same delicate touch. He also couldn't help but notice her beauty and her intelligence. Artie felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and he slammed them shut willing not one to fall. Noreen turned to find him looking as though he was in pain. She went quickly to his side, making a point not to touch him.  
  
Mr. Morgan? Are you all right?  
  
He looked away quickly wiping his eyes, Yes, yes, I'm fine.  
  
She took a step away, still mindful of how he had reacted to her earlier. Artie noticed her reluctance and felt regret. He reached a hand out, palm up, finally meeting her steady gaze. After a moment, she gently took his hand in hers. Noreen sat down in a chair next to him, just holding his hand. When she finally spoke, her voice was as gentle as he had heard it.  
  
You lost someone close to you, didn't you?  
  
He nodded, but couldn't find his own voice. The tortured look in the deep brown eyes told their own story, and Noreen needed no response. She put the hand she was holding in between both of hers, and lightly stroked it.  
  
You feel like your heart has been shattered and will never mend....  
  
My heart? He shook his head, My life.  
  
Carefully she reached out to stroke the side of his face, and this time Artie did not pull away. Instead he closed his eyes, concentrating on the softness of her hand.  
  
I know how it feels, to be in love and to lose everything. He opened his eyes and looked at her, so she continued, I lost my husband in the war.  
  
Noreen, I'm so sorry.  
  
What you need to hold on to, Mr. Morgan, is that with time, things will get better. And if you need to talk about it, I'm a good listener.  
  
Please call me Artemus.  
  
She smiled, Artemus. What a lovely name. Noreen couldn't help but notice how tired he looked, I think you should try and get some rest.  
  
Yes, you're quite right. There's a lot of work to be done tomorrow.  
  
Artemus, I didn't mean it that way. I just meant, you look exhausted. Maybe you need to take a day off.  
  
Artie shook his head, Nah, I'm fine. Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix.  
  
He drained the last of his coffee and polished off the rest of the sandwich, and then stood. Tentatively he laid a hand on her shoulder.  
  
Thank you, Miss Noreen. Your hospitality and kindness is much appreciated. Good night.  
  
She patted his hand as it slid off her shoulder, Good night, Artemus.  
  
Artie trudged up the stairs and closed the door to his room behind him. He lay on the bed, allowing his back to stretch out the stiffness. Within minutes of closing his eyes, Artemus was asleep.  
  
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	9. Chapter Nine

The morning sunlight streamed in through Jim's window, and he was glad to see something other than rain. West got up, bathed, shaved and went down the stairs, in search of some breakfast. Noreen Macrae, the barkeep, and an old guy sweeping up the floor, were in the bar area. Macrae turned to see West, and she greeted him with a cheery smile.  
  
Why Mr. West, how are you this morning?  
  
Jim was so concentrated on the beautiful woman, that he missed seeing the old man abruptly stop sweeping, exiting quickly into the kitchen.   
  
I'm fine, Miss Macrae, thank you. I was just wondering where I might be able to buy some breakfast.  
  
We can accommodate you, Mr. West. She turned in the direction that the janitor was, Mr. Morgan? Can you........I wonder where he got off to, I was going to ask him to make his special eggs for you. You haven't lived until you've had them.  
  
The barkeep piped up, I'm sure he's in the back, I'll see to it, Miss Macrae.  
  
Thank you, Bill. Please come sit over here, Mr. West.  
  
Jim followed her to a table and sat down while she poured two cups of coffee. Noreen sat across from West, her radiant smile seeming almost over the top to him.  
  
You seem very...happy today, Miss Macrae. Is it a special occasion? Your birthday perhaps?  
  
She blushed slightly, No, no, Mr. West, nothing at all like that.  
  
Then Jim recognized the look: she was in love. He smiled at her, his fiery eyes twinkling with amusement. It had happened to him many times. He knew he'd have to let her down easily, but for the moment, he would enjoy the attention.  
  
A special gentleman, I'll guess.  
  
Is it that obvious?  
  
West sipped his coffee, You're beaming, Miss Macrae. Any man who misses it has never seen a lady in love. Who's the lucky fellow?  
  
She leaned in conspiratorially, Don't tell on me, but it's my handyman!  
  
Jim frowned slightly, The old guy who was in here bef-- Jim swallowed, then tried to smile, I uh, didn't mean it quite that way.  
  
I know.....he seems a little old for me, but I don't think he's as old as he looks. She looked toward the kitchen, I wonder what's keeping him. I'll go find out.  
  
West watched her go, and a few moments later he heard a muffled argument in the kitchen. After another five minutes or so, Noreen Macrae walked back out, followed by Bill and the haggard handyman. There was something unsettling about the old man. For one thing, he wouldn't make eye contact with Jim, which set West on edge. The man simply put the plate in front of West, turned around and headed back to the kitchen. The fellow was wearing miner's clothes, had a full grey beard and was far too thin for his frame. For a moment Jim wondered what his story was, but the smell of the eggs pulled his attention.  
  
You're going to love those, no one can make them like Mr. Morgan.  
  
Jim put a forkful of eggs into his mouth, and was so startled he almost spit them out.  
  
Mr. West, is something wrong?  
  
Jim swallowed hard, Who did you say made these?  
  
Mr. Morgan.  
  
I don't know how to tell you this, but the man can't cook.  
  
Noreen frowned, pulled a piece of egg off the plate and tried it. It was awful. She didn't understand it; he'd made his eggs for her and they were wonderful.  
  
You're right, they're awful. Something must have happened, because his eggs really are the best.  
  
Well, maybe I caught him on a bad day.  
  
Jim stood up, picked up Noreen's hand and kissed the back of it.  
  
Thanks for everything, Miss Macrae.  
  
Good luck, Mr. West.  
  
  
  
Noreen watched the handsome man walk out of the saloon. She picked up the plate and made a beeline for the kitchen. She slammed the plate down in front of Artie.  
  
What in the hell is this?  
  
He couldn't look her in the eye, I'm sure I don't know what you mean...  
  
The hell you don't. What did you do? Dump an entire container of salt in there?  
  
I....I don't know what you're talking about.  
  
What's gotten into you? You're acting so strangely. It's as if you know Mr. West and you're trying to avoid him.  
  
Artie could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him. Who did this woman think she was to him? While he had some feeling for her, she certainly wasn't Lily. His voice was full of venom when he responded.  
  
Never saw him before in my life, and even if I did, I don't see what business it is of yours.  
  
As soon as the comment left his lips, he regretted it, but it was too late. The hurt in her eyes cut him like a sharp knife. While it was honest, it was far too cruel to one who had shown him nothing but kindness.   
  
He took a step toward her, Noreen, I'm so--  
  
The hand she held up to him, stopped him in mid-sentence. He looked down, his shame hanging heavy on him. His voice was a grave whisper.  
  
I didn't mean it. Not like that.  
  
Yes, Mr. Morgan, you did. I'm afraid that once again, I overstepped my place with you. It won't happen again, I assure you, but in the future, Mr. Morgan, I will thank you not to lead me on as you did last night.  
  
Miss Noreen.....wait...  
  
But she was gone, slamming the door in his face. Artie felt like the heel that he had been to her. He plopped in a chair, and a moment later the back door opened. He looked up to see Jim enter. Artie averted his eyes.   
  
West called to him from the door, Hey old-timer, you know who owns the stable and how much I might owe for bedding my horse last night?  
  
Artie shook his head, and said not a word. Jim stared at the man for a moment; there was something oddly strange about him, but West couldn't peg it.  
  
Jim shrugged, Thanks anyway, old-timer.  
  
Artie waved his hand in Jim's general direction, and West closed the door. Gordon let out a huge sigh of air. A part of him wanted to go to Jim and pull him into a hug; but the part that won out was the one that wanted to remain anonymous and free. Artie put a hand on his chest, as if he could somehow stop the hurt that burned all the way through him. Tears rushed into his eyes and trickled hot down his face. He had never felt so lost in his life.   
  
***********  
West left more than enough money for the stableman, mounted his horse, and began to ride south, through the canyon. At least the weather was a lot nicer than it had been. He kicked the horse to move along, his worry about Artie's fate once again pushing itself into the front of his mind. Jim felt strange: it was as if there was something that he had missed in Paulden, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  
  
His horse negotiated the alternating rock and mud well, but Jim knew that he needed to slow down. He could feel the animal slipping slightly on the rain soaked terrain. West pulled back on the reins slightly, and the horse responded immediately. The path was narrowing as he neared the top of the trail, and Jim felt it would be easier on the horse at a slower pace. He looked around him and his stomach tied up in a knot; what if Artie had come through during the rain? It would be so easy to slip. One moment of a lapse in concentration and--  
  
--His horse neighed as he lost his footing at the canyon's edge. The mud was too wet and the earth gave way. Jim tried to pull the horse backward, but it was a losing battle; there was too much weight in motion toward the edge. In order to save himself by rebalancing, West's horse threw his rider. Jim plummeted over the front of his horse, hitting the rocks of the canyon as he fell downward.  
  
***********


	10. Chapter Ten

Jim stared up into the stars. It was a particularly clear night. Clear, and cold. Where was he? How long had he been here? It was supposed to be daytime, wasn't it? Then he remembered what happened, and he realized he had been unconscious for most of the day. He let out a slow breath of air, while he gathered in his racing thoughts. He started by moving his neck; it felt sore, but it was still attached to the rest of him. Slowly he moved his arms, but the left one wouldn't respond. He tried to move his legs, and he realized that he couldn't feel them at all.   
  
Jim shivered. He was hurt pretty badly, he was alone, and he had been out cold all day. The situation couldn't be much worse. He swallowed hard, thinking of options. He could lie there and hope that someone found him in the morning, but that seemed like a waste of time, and West wasn't sure how much time he really had before the circumstances became grave. The second option was to yell for help; that was probably the quickest way to attract assistance.  
  
He opened his mouth to yell, and couldn't make much of a sound. A deeper breath, that's what he needed. Jim inhaled, and cried out in pain. So much for yelling. Option three: his horse, if the bastard was still around might be of some use. He mustered a little air and a tiny whistle. Not loud enough, and West knew it. He'd just have to deal with the pain. He took in a larger breath, cringing, and then whistled louder. No sign of the horse. For all he knew, his horse might have fallen, and was lying dead somewhere below him. Jim rallied, took another painful breath and let an even louder whistle fly.  
  
He heard a neigh on the cliff above him. Straining his neck, he could barely make out the black gelding.  
  
His voice was barely a whisper, You damned horse....  
  
The horse whinnied at him again. Bracing himself against the pain, Jim took in more air, and then let out three short whistles. The horse's ears twitched and he stared down at West. Jim repeated the call, and the horse neighed, his head bobbing up and down. A moment later, the horse took off at a full run, and West hoped it was back toward Paulden......  
  
***********  
Artie had felt guilty all day, and now he couldn't sleep. He had been a shit, and he knew it. His heart was hurting, but Artemus Gordon understood all too well that such a state gave him no right to take it out on someone else, much less someone as sweet as Noreen. Artie rolled onto his side. In general, he had been behaving like a spoiled child, and he realized it. He had been selfish, insensitive to those around him, and worst of all, he had behaved boorishly toward his best friend. Artie felt sick with remorse.  
  
Slowly he got out of bed, and began pacing. Back and forth, and back and forth. Yes, Lily had hurt him, and yes, he still loved her; but that didn't mean he had to throw away his entire life in an effort to escape a feeling that was as much a part of life as anything else, no matter how difficult it was to get through each day. And yet, he wasn't sure he could overcome it. Artie sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped forward. He had aged twenty years in three months, and he felt every last inch of it.   
  
But there comes a moment in every man's life, when he either accepts defeat, or he fights like hell to move forward. Artie had never acknowledged defeat, until now. He looked at the ghostly reflection of himself in the mirror: this man who had swallowed defeat was not him. He stood up, and walked closer to the image that stared back at him with hollow eyes. Artie leaned on the dresser, examining the face he once knew so well. This man was vacant, cut off from his emotions, whether sorrow or joy; this man was unkempt and uncaring about himself or anyone else. This man was not him.   
  
A rage began to boil up from his gut. A rage so fierce and primeval, it overtook Artie in seconds, and before he knew what he was doing, he had smashed the apparition in the mirror with his fist, glass shards and blood flying. A heartbroken sob escaped his lips, the power of it sending him to his knees on the floor. He barely heard the knocking on his door, or the voice calling to him.  
  
Mr. Morgan? Mr. Morgan.....are you all right? Please answer me....  
  
Artie couldn't move. He remained on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and grieving for the death of a love so profound, it had almost destroyed him. The door opened, and Noreen came into the room. From the moonlight in the window, she could see the man sobbing on his knees in the corner. She ran to him, kneeling behind him, grabbing him by the arms.  
  
What's wrong? Please tell me...  
  
Artie couldn't speak. Instead, he leaned his back into her, and pulled her arms around him. Noreen held him, rocking him slightly; then she noticed the blood on his right hand. She leaned into his ear and whispered gently to him.  
  
Your hand is bleeding, I should look at it.  
  
He shook his head, pressing into her, his voice raspy, Please just hold me.  
  
Noreen tightened her grip on him, and leaned her face against his, Shhh......it's okay.  
  
He whispered, I loved her so much.  
  
I know. Tell me what happened.  
  
Artie didn't think he could, but after awhile, slowly, he began to tell Noreen about Lily. And slowly, his heart began to feel lighter......  
  
***********  
The black gelding raced into the small town of Paulden. The moonlight shimmering across his coat made him look almost blue. He stopped amidst a whir of dust in front of the stable. He whinnied, but there was no one around to hear him......  
  
***********  
Noreen sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her hand in slow circles on Artie's back. His injured hand was wrapped in a white bandage, and he felt more at peace than he had in three months.  
  
Feeling a little better?  
  
Artie's voice was low from relaxation,   
  
Noreen moved her hand up to his thick, unruly hair, running her fingers through the curls.  
  
What did you do before you came here?  
  
Mmm...that's complicated.  
  
Why complicated?  
  
Artie lazily rolled over and smiled at her, I was just a working stiff....  
  
She continued running her fingers through his hair, So you had a steady job....  
  
An impish grin that she had never seen before, curled his lips, You could call it that....  
  
Artemus.......you are infuriating.  
  
He smiled his most charming smile at her,   
  
Their eyes locked, and he suddenly realized how beautiful she was, and noticed the way she was looking at him. He swallowed uncomfortably. Noreen leaned toward him, and lightly pressed her lips to his. Artie hesitated to respond, and she pulled back.  
  
I probably shouldn't have done that....but I've wanted to for awhile.  
  
He brushed her face with his hands, Noreen, you're very beautiful.....  
  
But you wouldn't dream of taking advantage of me this way.....  
  
He nodded, but continued to caress her face with his hands. He was nothing if not a mixture of signals to her. Noreen had always trusted her instincts, and her instincts told her that the truth was in his actions, not his words. Slowly she leaned toward him again, and gently brushed her lips on his. After a few gentle kisses, Artie opened his mouth to her, pulling her close to him. He broke from her and looked into her eyes, his breath warm against her lips.  
  
I don't want to hurt you, Noreen--  
  
She put a finger against his mouth, silencing him, I understand what this is about, and that you can't stay.  
  
The deep brown eyes looked quizzically into hers, and she whispered to him.  
  
Just accept the gift I'm offering, and don't question my motives.  
  
The dark eyes melted into pools of moisture as Noreen pressed herself into him, kissing him deeply....  
  
***********


	11. Chapter Eleven

Artie awoke feeling refreshed; better than he had in three months. Instinctively, he pulled the sleeping woman next to him, closer to his body, cuddling into her softness. She stirred and turned to face him, snuggling into him. He kissed her gently on the forehead.  
  
Good morning.  
  
She kissed the soft flesh of his throat and purred,   
  
Artie sighed contentedly, breathing in the sweet scent of Noreen's hair. He knew he needed to get moving with work, but for the moment, he wanted to luxuriate in the feeling of the soft skin against his. She tightened her arms around his back, softly caressing his shoulders.  
  
We can't stay here forever can we?  
  
He sighed heavily, No, I don't suppose that we can.....so much needs to be done.  
  
Artie tilted her face up to his and gently kissed her, lingering only for a sweet moment. Then begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and pulled his clothes on. He could use a strong cup of coffee.  
  
***********  
  
The sun peeked over the canyon wall, hitting Jim in the face. He stirred with a moan, his eyes slowly opening. He wondered if his horse made it back to Paulden, and whether anyone thought it strange that a saddled horse with no rider was wandering the town. At least there was a chance that the sheriff or some other inquisitive individual might come looking for the horse's owner.  
  
The feeling in his legs had come back, which he decided was a mixed blessing. He wasn't paralyzed, but the pain was unpleasant to say the least. He drew in a slow breath. It proved easier than it had been the night before, and he was confident that his ribs were bruised, but nothing more. He tried to move, and the flash of pain caused him to cry out.  
  
Through clenched teeth he uttered,   
  
Getting out of the canyon on his own was not possible; without help, he would surely die. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock, praying his horse had understood the three-whistle command, and that someone in Paulden would become curious.  
  
***********  
  
Artemus continued sweeping the floor of the saloon, chatting off and on with Bill the barkeep, who was sipping his morning coffee.  
  
You do make the best coffee, Artie, I'll give ya that. You gonna share the secret?  
  
It's just Arbuckle's and water.  
  
Nah, you got something else in here, you must.  
  
A smile tugged at Artie's lips, It's in the process, if you really wanna know.  
  
  
  
Artie leaned in conspiratorially, Yeah, instead of boiling the water and coffee together, you boil the water separately until it bubbles with so much pressure that it can push through a small container holding the grounds. See, I have this idea for a machine that can make coffee by putting the grounds in some kind of filter in one part of the machine, and adding the water to another—  
  
Bill just stared at the man as if he were some kind of nut. Artemus took in a deep breath. He was certainly familiar with the look, but it had been awhile since he had seen it. Jim was used to his meandering and theories, and while West occasionally looked at him with a long-suffering gaze, he no longer gave him the vacant stare.  
  
_Jim. _ Artie felt emotion well up within him at the thought of his friend. He had been right there and Artemus had not acknowledged him. He felt ashamed. Bill saw the sadness cross over Gordon's face as though it were a dark cloud.  
  
You all right? You look like you just lost your best friend.  
  
Artie's glistening eyes darted up to Bill's, Sure, I'm fine.just thinking about somebody.....  
  
The sultry voice from the landing upstairs caused both men to turn and look.   
  
Whoever she is, Mr. Morgan, she'd better have the first name of Noreen  
  
Artie took her hand as she stepped on the last stair, A rose by any other name, wouldn't smell as sweet  
  
She smiled at him; he was quite charming. She knew if she weren't careful, she would fall for him; and she would fall hard.   
  
Why Mr. Morgan, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were some kind of performer at some point in your life.  
  
Artie nodded his head solemnly to her, I was indeed a bit of a showboat. He indicated his current appearance, Although I looked a lot different then  
  
She ran a hand along the side of his face, I think you look just fine now.  
  
He blushed slightly, as Noreen brushed closely past him, heading into the kitchen. He watched her go, admiring her curves. None of it was lost on Bill.  
  
Miss Noreen seems a bit sweet on you.  
  
Artie shrugged, Yes, I suppose so  
  
He began sweeping the floor again.  
  
She's had a hard time since her husband was killed.  
  
Artie could feel Bill's glare at his back, and the warning in his tone. Gordon stopped sweeping, and turned to face the barkeep.  
  
Bill, I understand that you're trying to protect her, but I don't think the matter is up for public discussion. Artie looked into the man's eyes, But if it makes you feel better, I'm not out to hurt her.  
  
Good intentions are fine, but I see the way she looks at you  
  
Then it hit Artemus, You're in love with her aren't you?  
  
Bill glared, picked up his cloth and began wiping down the bar, Don't be ridiculous. I just don't wanna see her hurt is all.  
  
Before Gordon could comment further, a young man dressed in stableman's clothes came into the saloon, Hey Bill.do you know anything about a black horse at the stable?  
  
What are you talkin' about, Clive?  
  
When I got to the stable this mornin' there was a black gelding fully saddled standing in front of the doors. There was no one around, he wasn't tied up: he was just standin' there. I tried to get ahold of him, but he keeps scootin' out of the way every time I reach for the reins.  
  
I don't know anything about it, Clive. We didn't get any new borders last night.  
  
Well this is one dang crazy horse. He just stands there and neighs at me, but won't let me git him. Clive headed for the door, Must be somebody's horse, he's got a right expensive saddle and tack, and the rifle is custom with silver detail on the handle.  
  
Artie shot a look at the young man, Hang on a secondsilver detail on the handle.....Is the saddle and tack silver-studded?  
  
Clive stared at him, Sure nough is. How'd you know that?  
  
Artie swallowed hard, It sounds like the horse that belonged to that young man who stayed at the saloon night before last.  
  
How the hell would you know that?  
  
Artie ignored the question and turned to Clive, Can I see the horse?  
  
Come on then....  
  
Artie and Bill followed Clive out of the saloon, and down to the stable. There, standing in front of the barn doors, was Jim West's horse. An alarm in Gordon's head went off; this was all wrong. The horse was standing there, his head bobbing up and down in agitation. He was shifting back and forth on his front legs, and his eyes were wide. Artie approached the gelding cautiously and slowly.  
  
Easy boy.easy now.  
  
The horse recognized him and after a moment stopped moving. Artie took a hold of the reins and the gelding nudged him with his nose.   
  
Hey, he knows him....  
  
Gordon pet the horse gently and spoke in soothing tones, Where's Jim, huh? Where is he, boy?  
  
The horse whinnied and shook his mane wildly. He broke from Artie and ran a feet, but then stopped, and looked at Gordon. Artie frowned; it seemed as if the horse was expecting something. He whistled to the horse, but the animal didn't budge. Artie did it again, and slowly the horse obeyed.  
  
Clive piped up, Is that some kinda circus horse?  
  
Artie muttered under his breath, Only if you consider the White House your average big top.... Gordon stroked the horse's nose, You know where he is, don't you? Where's Jim, hmmm?  
  
The tore away again, and once more turned to stare at Gordon. Artie was sure. He turned to Clive and said, I need my horse. Clive left quickly to get the chestnut, then Artie turned to Bill, Can you get the doctor in town and be sure he's at the saloon when I get back?  
  
Bill pursed his lips; this man who had moved in on Noreen, this drifter, was suddenly barking orders like he was some kind of important lawman.  
  
You mind tellin' me what's goin' on here?  
  
Look, I don't have time to explain. The long and short of it is we may have a man who's badly hurt, and I'm asking you to get a doctor. Is that a problem?  
  
Bill didn't like this sudden turn of attitude from Morgan, and decided that later he might do something about it.   
  
For the moment, Bill shrugged and replied,   
  
Clive brought Artie his horse. Gordon jumped up on her. A second later, the gelding took off at breakneck speed, with Artemus Gordon in hot pursuit.  
  
  



	12. Chapter Twelve

Artie followed Jim's horse though several trails until he was moving up a tight canyon. The horse slowed around a turn, and then stopped. He stood by the edge, shaking his mane and neighing. Artie came to a halt nearby, dismounted and walked over to West's horse. He pet the animal slowly.  
  
It's okay boy, calm down.  
  
Artie looked around, and down into the canyon, but he didn't see a thing.  
  
Jim? Jim!  
  
There was no answer. Based on the behavior of the gelding, Artie knew Jim was somewhere nearby. He called out to his partner several more times, but to no avail. Only a search would produce results. He pulled a long rope from Jim's saddle bag, and tied it to a Joshua tree that seemed fairly sturdy. Carefully, Artie scaled down the canyon wall, looking for Jim, but there was nothing for the first two hundred feet.   
  
He swallowed hard: if Jim fell this far, he couldn't have survived. Artie looked up toward the sky, trying to hold back the tears that had quickly formed. He wouldn't stop looking until he found him, one way or another. He stopped momentarily on a ledge, and that's when he spotted the dark blue hat. As quickly as he could, Artie lowered himself to the hat, picking it up. He looked to his left, and on the next lowest ledge, was Jim. He scrambled as fast as his body would move.  
  
When he reached West, he realized that Jim was in bad shape, and there was no time to waste getting him to a doctor. As gently as he could, he picked West up and placed him across his shoulders. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. With all of his strength and effort, Artemus pulled both of them back up the canyon wall. By the time he reached the top, he was panting and completely exhausted.  
  
West never stirred, not even when Artie mounted his horse, pulling Jim in front of him in the saddle, cradling him closely. He grabbed the reins of the gelding, and as best he could, began the ride back to Paulden.  
  
***********


	13. Chapter Thirteen

The dust swirled in a cloud behind them as the two horses galloped into town. Artie stopped in front of the saloon and called out.  
  
Bill....Noreen....I need some help out here!  
  
Bill and Noreen, followed by Dr. Livingston, ran out of the bar. Bill helped Artie gingerly take Jim out of the saddle and carry him into the saloon. They took him upstairs and placed him on a bed in one of the rooms. Although unconscious, West moaned in pain, and Noreen observed the worry flash across Artie's face. The doctor examined West and then turned to Noreen.  
  
He's hurt pretty bad. We're gonna need to keep him quiet and still for a few days, can he stay here, Miss Noreen?  
  
Of course.  
  
Artie's brown eyes bore into the doctor, Is he going to be all right?  
  
Livingston scratched his head, Well now, that all depends.....  
  
Depends on what?  
  
If he wakes up.  
  
If....? What do you mean _if_?  
  
None of the injuries I can see are life-threatening; it's the ones I can't see that have me concerned. He took a pretty bad hit on the head, and I don't know how much damage it might have caused.  
  
Artie's face fell in sadness. He swallowed hard, trying hard not to lose control of his emotions. The doctor looked at Noreen.  
  
I'll drop by a few times tomorrow to check in on him. Keep him warm, and if someone could stay with him during the night--  
  
--I'll do it.  
  
You know this fellow do you?  
  
Artie could feel the penetrating gazes of Bill and Noreen.   
  
He looked to the floor, his voice very soft,   
  
A look passed between Livingston and Noreen, then finally the doctor spoke.  
  
Very well then, Mr. Morgan. I shall leave you to it.  
  
Livingston picked up his hat, then his bag, and proceeded to follow Bill out of the room. Artie stood, stunned, in the middle of the floor, just staring with uncertainty at the figure on the bed. He felt as if he had been punched hard in the stomach. After a few minutes, Noreen walked over to him, and gently took his hand. The brown eyes darted to hers. She smiled, and caressed his cheek.  
  
Whatever it is, you can tell me.  
  
Artie squeezed her hand, but said nothing.   
  
Are you in trouble with the law? Is he chasin' after you?  
  
Gordon looked away, and she knew she was on the right track. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tried to recall West's words from the day before; then it hit her.  
  
It's you. The man he's looking for is you. She could see that she was right from the look in his eyes, But the description was wrong.....and he saw you and didn't seem to know you.  
  
Artie's voice was like the softest velvet, His name is Jim West, and he's my partner.  
  
Your partner? Partner in what?  
  
Artie took her other hand in his, Noreen, I'm a Secret Service agent for the United States, on special assignment to the President.  
  
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The man was delusional. She stroked his face softly.  
  
Artemus, it isn't necessary to try and create an explanation for why he's after you.  
  
I'm not. As hard as it is to believe, Noreen, I really am what I say I am.  
  
But you don't--  
  
--look like an agent. Not right now, that's true. He broke away from her and moved closer to the bed, staring at Jim as he spoke, When Lily turned me down, I couldn't take it. I needed to get away for a little while - at least I thought it would only be for a little while - it turned out to be three months. Jim came looking for me.  
  
But you didn't want to be found.  
  
I'm just not sure I can go back to that life.  
  
Noreen sighed heavily, as more than one realization hit her, The life without Lily.  
  
  
  
She walked over to him and ran her hand up and down his back soothingly.  
  
And now?  
  
He looked at her, And now everything has changed.  
  
You care very much for him, don't you?  
  
Artie nodded, Jim's like a brother to me.  
  
Then why didn't he recognize you yesterday?  
  
Noreen, the man he described is the one he knows. I'm normally clean shaven, about thirty pounds heavier and immaculately dressed. I look much older than the man who left three months ago.  
  
She shook her head, I'm sorry, but this story is just so......  
  
  
  
Well, you have to admit, it's not average.  
  
Wait here a moment.  
  
She watched him quietly slip out the door, a moment later returning with what appeared to be a small leather wallet. Artie handed it to her, and without comment, she opened it, unprepared for what awaited her. Noreen gasped slightly as she gazed at a picture of the man West had described; and it was Artemus, only heavier, younger and without the beard. Secret Service Agent Artemus Gordon. Noreen stared at Artemus for a moment, comparing him to the picture; but she would know those brown eyes anywhere.  
  
  
  
Artie took the identification from her and slipped into his pocket.  
  
I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Noreen, but please understand, I came here to get away from the Secret Service and Artemus Gordon.  
  
Her voice was almost a whisper, And the reality of Lily.  
  
He looked away; she was right.  
  
was all he said.  
  
She moved toward the door, I'll bring you up some supper in awhile, Mr. _Gordon_.  
  
  
  
--No, please don't say anything more.  
  
He watched her leave the room, closing the door behind her. He closed his eyes: he didn't want to hurt her, and yet, he had. Wearily, Artie sat down in the chair beside the bed, taking Jim's hand in his own.  
  
Please Jim.....you've got to be okay. I can't take losing you. His voice grew softer, I just can't.  
  
Artie sat as still as a statue in the straight-backed chair, keeping vigil over his best friend. He didn't even notice that Noreen failed to reappear with the meal she had promised him.  
  
***********  



	14. Chapter Fourteen

Artie stirred slowly, not sure of where he was, nor why his neck felt stiff as a board. He opened his eyes and realized his forehead was leaning on a hand that wasn't his; then it all came back to him. He had fallen asleep in his chair, leaning over his unconscious best friend. Gordon let go of the hand he had been clutching all night as he tried to straighten up. He squeezed the offended muscles in the back of his neck, and let out a long sigh.  
  
He felt the soothing hands gently begin to kneed the tension away from his neck. She was so silent, he hadn't heard her come in. He closed his eyes and leaned into the strong touch that had moved down to his shoulders.  
  
Her voice was soft and lilting, Have you had anything to eat?  
  
  
  
Then I guess I had better go get you a little something.  
  
He grabbed her hand before she could leave, Please don't stop yet.  
  
Noreen smiled at him and once again began to massage his upper back. Artie relaxed into the warm hands caressing him, sighing deeply. He moaned in pleasure as she worked up his neck and began threading her fingers through his thick hair, softly tugging on the curls.  
  
You need to relax Artemus. It's not good for you to be this tense. She was silent for a moment, then continued, I'm sorry that I became angry last night.  
  
You had every right to be; I shouldn't have lied about who I was  
  
They were quiet for a few minutes while Noreen continued to rub him, then finally, Artie stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. He stroked her hair and breathed in its fresh scent.  
  
I knew you would wind up hurt....  
  
I'm not  
  
He pulled back and looked into her eyes, searching out the sincerity. Smiling, he bent down and gently touched her lips with his. She looked into the deep brown eyes, which were slightly shiny with emotion.  
  
What are you going to do?  
  
It was a simple enough question, but it caused his chest to burn with the conflict of the feelings swirling inside him.  
  
Jim's going to need me, Noreen, and I have to be there for him.  
  
She could sense his worry, and how much he cared for the man lying unconscious in the bed.  
  
She drew his face into her hands, What if he never wakes up?  
  
Artie pulled away from her, unable to bear the thought.  
  
He has to..he just has to.  
  
Artie, I didn't say it to be hurtful—  
  
—I know that. He pulled her into him, crushing her body against his, God, I know that.  
  
She could feel the fear pulsate out of him, and stretched her arms further around his back. Artemus simply allowed her to hold him tightly, clinging to the comfort it brought. The weak voice from the bed, startled them both.  
  
  
  
Gordon let go of Noreen and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Jim's hand in his own.  
  
Here, Jim. I'm here.  
  
With much effort, the blue eyes slowly fluttered open. A frown creased West's forehead. He had heard Artie's voice, he knew he had, but his partner wasn't in the room. West licked his lips and swallowed, trying to alleviate the dryness. The man sitting on the bed reached for a glass of water on the beside table, gently cupped the back of Jim's head with his hand, and poured some water into his mouth. He didn't look like the man West knew, but it was Artie's voice that came out of him.  
  
  
  
Jim nodded and continued to stare at Artie, uncertainty filling him; the old codger sitting on the bed _couldn't_ be Artie. But then again he had seen his partner take on hundreds of identities.....  
  
Nice disguise, you shouldn't have....  
  
Relieved that West had awakened, Artie answered with his patent annoyance, I _didn't_.  
  
Fake beard?  
  
James my boy, it's the real thing. Artie tugged on his own chin, See? Stays put!  
  
Jim's voice sounded groggy, You look so thin  
  
Gordon could see the worry in the tired blue eyes, and he ran a comforting hand through West's hair, Hey, Jim, I'm fine. You just concentrate on getting better, okay?  
  
West nodded slightly then fell back into a deep sleep. Artie let out a heavy sigh of relief. His eyes flooded with tears as he adjusted the comforter tighter over his partner.  
  
His voice was a mere whisper, Thank God....  
  
Noreen wrapped her arms around Artie's chest, kissing him on the head.  
  
Come on, let's get some breakfast in you, and then you can lie down and rest for awhile.  
  
I'm okay.  
  
She could sense that he was already putting distance between them.  
  
Please don't do that, Artemus.  
  
Do what?  
  
Don't push me away.  
  
He stood and faced her, I'm not.  
  
She looked into the depths of chocolate brown and knew he didn't even realize he was doing it.   
  
Her voice was filled with resignation, You already have.  
  
Artie frowned as he watched Noreen quietly leave the room.  
  
***********


	15. Chapter Fifteen

A week had quickly passed since West regained consciousness, and Noreen felt Artie continuing to pull away from her. She hadn't meant to deceive him. She hadn't meant to fall in love with him. The thought of losing him was making it painful to be in the same room with him. She blinked away the tears, and picked up the lunch tray. She balanced the tray of food in one hand, and held the front of her skirt up with the other as she ascended the stairs.   
  
He heard the light knock on the door.  
  
Come in.  
  
Noreen entered the room to find Jim sitting up in bed, reading. He was looking healthier by the day, and she anticipated that it wouldn't be long before he was ready to travel. That thought gave her pause, but she recovered quickly, setting the tray in front of him.  
  
You're looking much better, Mr. West.  
  
Thank you, Miss Macrae, I feel a lot better.  
  
Noreen noticed that Artie was nowhere to be seen, Do you happen to know where Artemus is?  
  
I think he went to his room.  
  
Ah, I think I'll check and see if he's hungry then. Enjoy your lunch.  
  
Thank you.  
  
Jim watched her exit and debated talking to her, but knew it wasn't his place. He was worried. He could see how much Artemus cared for her; but caring was not love, and Noreen was not Lily. The question was whether or not his partner realized it. Artie was an emotional man, and often found it difficult to separate himself from his feelings. Jim settled down into his lunch. In the end he would just have to trust that Artemus would do what needed to be done. Jim let out a long sigh. Artie's emotional nature could prove to be his undoing.....  
  
***********  
He was lying on the bed when she knocked on the door. He knew it was her, and felt his throat tighten up with anxiety.   
  
His voice was low and tired sounding, Come in.  
  
Noreen entered and closed the door behind her. She looked at him: he seemed a little pale, and even thinner than he had only a week ago. It made him appear slight, even though she knew he wasn't a small man. She walked to the foot of the bed and stopped, examining the haunted brown eyes.  
  
Are you all right?  
  
Of course.  
  
I'll get you something to eat, it will only take me a minute--  
  
--No thanks. I'm fine.  
  
She stared at him, You don't look fine.  
  
She was right, he wasn't. He glanced away. He was filled with guilt over Jim, the Service and especially, Noreen. Artie knew he shouldn't have become involved with her; he hadn't begun to get over Lily. He was alone and hurting, and there she had been; kind and caring. He swallowed hard, but the guilty lump in his throat remained.   
  
Noreen's voice was quiet, Well....I'll leave you alone then...  
  
She turned toward the door, but his voice stopped her.  
  
  
  
With her back to him, she closed her eyes in relief. Slowly she turned to face him. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Noreen's eyes filled with tears; she could see on his face the words that were to come. She looked down quickly, embarrassed by the drops spilling from her cheeks.  
  
Artie felt horrible, but knew there was no choice. Jim needed him. And on some level, Artie knew he needed Jim and the Service. He would have to return to that life and face the pain. No matter how far he ran, the anguish in his heart would simply come with him. He had always known it.   
  
Noreen fought hard against the sobs that were choking her. Artie couldn't stand to see her so hurt. He went to her, gently pulling her into his arms, pressing her face into him. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and stroked her hair affectionately. His voice was like a soft caress.  
  
I'm so sorry. He swallowed hard, This is all my fault.  
  
Noreen sobbed into his broad chest, clinging to him tightly. Artie felt the sting of his own tears and tried to blink them back. He gently pushed Noreen to arm's length, brushing away the moisture on her cheeks with his thumbs. He cupped her face with his hands, his breath hot against her skin.  
  
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make this okay.  
  
She looked up into his soft eyes, You can't fix this, Artie. Just love me for however much time we have left together. _Please_.  
  
Artie's heart felt as if it might burst. He shook his head at her, and looked toward the ceiling, trying in vain to keep his tears from falling. Noreen ran a hand lightly across the soft flesh of his throat and down his chest. After a moment, he glanced down at her, allowing his tears to fall.  
  
Her voice was even, The first night we were together, I told you I knew you would leave. I asked you to accept the gift I was offering and not to question my motives. It still stands.  
  
I can't do this to you. I won't--  
  
Before he could finish, Noreen covered his mouth with hers, taking his breath away. After a few moments, he recovered and pushed back slightly.  
  
I can't hurt you any more than I already have, Noreen. You deserve better than this...better than me. She tried to pull his lips back to hers, but he stopped her,   
  
Her eyes flashed hurt, You don't want me.  
  
He grabbed her face with his hands, Don't say that. I do want you.....I--   
  
His words suddenly failed him. He leaned in, kissing her passionately. She could feel his body pressing into her and knew he wasn't lying. Artie felt his need for her comfort growing; he had to control himself. Abruptly he broke away from her lips, keeping his hold on her face. She could feel the heat of his breath on her moist lips.  
  
I can't use you like this, Noreen. It just isn't in me. I've hurt you too much already, and you'll never know how sorry I am for that.  
  
Her eyes searched his and saw that he meant it. Her voice shook slightly with anger.  
  
I should have known I'd fall for you, and that you'd never stay.  
  
Her eyes took on a fiery quality. She reached up and slapped him hard across the face. Artie was a little shaken by the force of it, but deep down felt it was the least he deserved. He wanted to pull her into his arms, and cover the sting of what he had done by making love to her one last time. But it was far too late for that, and in the end, Gordon realized it would only make it worse when he had to leave. And soon, Jim would be well enough to ride.   
  
He gazed into her eyes, allowing his own hurt to peek through.  
  
I never meant to hurt you, and I am truly sorry.  
  
Her eyes shined with venom as they filled with tears. And without a word, Noreen Macrae walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.  
  
************


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Jim heard the door slam, followed by the angry steps down the hall, and the muffled sniffles. He shook his head; Artie was having the worst run of luck with women that West had ever seen. Under other circumstances, his best friend's predicament might have been amusing; but Jim knew that Artie was still hurting over Lily. He could see it in his best friend's eyes. And even though Noreen was a rebound, West knew that Artie felt tremendous guilt over her. Jim debated whether or not to check up on his partner, or leave him be. Managing Artie in an emotional state like this was a delicate balancing act; he was a complicated man. For the moment, Jim thought better of barging in on his partner's solitude.  
  
***********   
Bill watched from behind the bar in stony silence as Noreen ran down the stairs crying. He glared up toward the second floor of the saloon. The damned drifter had been trouble from the first day he showed up. Bill moved out from behind the bar, and followed Noreen into the kitchen. He entered and found her standing in the back of the room, sobbing.   
  
Miss Noreen....now, don't cry. Everything will be all right, you'll see.  
  
But the lament continued, and Bill felt useless. Finally, he turned her around, and pulled her into his arms. Noreen shook with emotion, the anguish of lost love rippling through her. Bill sensed an anger beginning to rise up from deep within him. He closed his arms tightly around her.  
  
Please.....don't cry.  
  
He wanted to take her pain away; he wanted to tell her that he would take care of her, that he loved her. But he could do none of those things. He was nothing but a bartender to her, and he knew it. He let out a slow breath of air and tentatively caressed her hair. A moment later, Noreen pushed away from him and wiped her eyes, trying to put a brave smile on her face.  
  
What ever would I do without you, Bill? You're such a good friend.  
  
She kissed his cheek lightly, and he watched her walk from the kitchen. Good friend. It was most he would ever be to her; especially with men like Gordon around taking advantage of her. It made Bill's blood boil. And then he realized what it was that he could do for her. A slow smile spread across his face. He would take care of her. He would show her how much he loved her.  
  
Artemus Gordon was going to pay for hurting Noreen Macrae. Bill would see to it.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

West had listened carefully all afternoon for any sign of movement in the room next to his, but there had been none. Shortly after Noreen delivered a tray full of dinner, Jim decided to try and get out of bed on his own. Slowly, he pushed himself off the bed, grabbing hold of the nightstand for momentary support. He took a deep breath, and realized he felt surprisingly good....for about three seconds. Then the room began spinning and Jim West hit the floor with a thud.  
  
Jim! Jim!  
  
West was barely aware of the footsteps moving quickly toward him. Strong arms lifted him off the floor, and carefully placed him on the bed. He heard water being rung out of a cloth, and a moment later, Jim felt the cool compress on his forehead. The cloth was gently pressed against his face and throat. After a few minutes, his mind began to clear. His blue eyes fluttered open to see the worried brown ones staring at him.  
  
What in the hell did you think you were doing?  
  
Jim smiled slightly, Take it easy, Artie, I was just tired of sitting in bed. Didn't do any permanent damage, I'm okay.  
  
Artie was relieved but also annoyed, Yeah, well.....just stay put, will ya? You'll be the end of my back if I have to pick you up again.  
  
Gordon tossed the cloth into the basin on the nightstand, and stood up.   
  
His voice was tinged once more with concern, Are you sure you're okay?  
  
You worry too much, Artemus. I just stood up too fast, that's all. I'll be fine.  
  
Get some rest, Jim.  
  
Artie walked to the door, but Jim's voice stopped him.  
  
  
  
Gordon looked at his friend, but West didn't say anything more.  
  
What's the matter, Jim? Worry lined Artie's features as he quickly walked back to the bed, You all right?  
  
Yeah.......but are you?  
  
The dark brown eyes stared into the intense blue ones for a moment, then looked away.  
  
Jim's voice was persistent, Artie, I know you--  
  
Gordon held a hand up, stopping Jim from saying anything more, --Save it, James. I'll be fine. You need to concentrate on getting your strength back. Artie was at the door when he turned, And just remember what my great Aunt Maude always said, Behind every successful secret agent is a brokenhearted hack picking him up off the floor.'  
  
  
  
But the door closed before Jim could say anything more.  
  
***********  
The sun wasn't up yet, but Artie couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept through most of the night. In the dark of the room, he pulled his pants on and went downstairs to make coffee. He was pouring himself the first cup when the noise from behind the door startled him. He turned, half expecting to see Noreen, but it was Bill who was standing there.  
  
Bill.....up kinda early aren'tcha?  
  
Heard someone down here, thought it was-- Bill licked his lips slightly, Well, didn't think it was you.  
  
Bill moved past Artie and grabbed a cup. Gordon poured the man some coffee.  
  
Gordon's voice was purposefully flat, I hope she'll sleep in.  
  
The bartender looked sharply at the man, Considering she's been up most of the night cryin' that would be a good thing.  
  
Artie reacted, What exactly are you trying to say, Bill?  
  
The man stared hard at Gordon for a moment, like a man who might challenge him, but then the moment passed away. Bill drained the last of the coffee from his cup and set it down.  
  
Nothing. I ain't sayin' nothing.  
  
Gordon watched the man stalk out of the kitchen. A familiar but uncomfortable feeling began burning in his gut.   
  
***********


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Artie felt West's grip on him tighten, and he looked into his best friend's face; it registered exhaustion and pain. Artie put his arm around Jim's waist, moving him toward the nearest chair.  
  
All right, Jim, that's enough for now.  
  
No pain, no gain, Artie.  
  
Never mind. You've walked up and down this staircase five times. Just four days ago, you were still in bed. That's enough progress for today.  
  
Jim let out a long sigh; he knew his best friend was right. Artie gently squeezed Jim's shoulder before he removed his hand.  
  
You just sit there for a little while, and then I'll help you back to bed.  
  
Where are you going?  
  
Artie smiled slightly, I can't just babysit you all day, James, I've got chores to do around here. Jim looked at Gordon, so he continued, She's not speaking to me, but she's still paying me. I owe her at least a good day's work. He looked away, his eyes deepening in sadness, I owe her more than that, but the work's all I can do....  
  
Gordon picked up the broom leaning against the bar and began sweeping the floor. Jim watched him for a few minutes. Artie looked worn out and dangerously thin. West decided it was time to draw him out.  
  
Jim's tone was casual, When are you going to lose that beard, Artemus? It adds at least ten years to you....  
  
Artie continued sweeping, feigning indifference, Maybe I _like_ the beard, James.  
  
Jim smiled, I doubt that, Artemus, I really do. I think it's more accurate to say that you're just not finished hiding behind it.  
  
Gordon looked at him sharply, I'm not hiding.  
  
I don't know what else you'd call it, Artie. Between the beard, that.....outfit, and the amount of weight you've dropped, nobody would recognize you.  
  
I think you've rested long enough. Let's get you upstairs.  
  
  
  
Gordon grabbed Jim none too gingerly, hoisting him to his feet. Gruffly he moved West toward the stairs.  
  
Hey.....go easy, will ya?  
  
Artie said nothing, but moved Jim up the stairs with a gentler touch. He helped his friend into his room, and onto the bed. West looked tired, but most of the color had returned to his face, and he looked stronger. Gordon felt relieved about Jim, but dreaded the thought of returning to his former life. It was an existence that would constantly remind him of what he had lost. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he headed toward the door. The look on Gordon's face wasn't lost on his partner.  
  
Artie, you _are_ planning on coming back with me, aren't you?  
  
The vulnerability in Jim's voice dug right into Gordon's heart. He swallowed hard but didn't turn around.  
  
I'm not sure that I can, Jim.  
  
  
  
--Please Jim, let's not talk about it now.  
  
Gordon didn't wait for a comment, but instead walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.  
  
***********  
The sunset held all the hues of reds, oranges and yellows. Artie took a last look at the fireball as it dipped below the horizon. He turned away from the balcony rail to go back inside, and almost bumped into Noreen. She hadn't said a word to him in almost a week, and her sudden appearance made his heart slam into his throat.  
  
His voice was soft and velvety, You startled me. She stared at him with sadly haunted eyes, but said nothing. He swallowed and looked away, I'm sorry, Noreen. My apology is all I can offer.  
  
You used me.  
  
The guilt he felt colored his baritone timbre, All due respect, Miss Macrae, but I seem to recall that you were not coerced.  
  
Her voice was tight with anger, That may be true, but a gentleman would never have taken advantage of a lady.  
  
And a lady would never have put herself in that position.  
  
She struck him hard with her hand across his face. Artie recovered quickly and fixed her with his intense gaze, sorry that he had said it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she hit him again. He took the slap and simply looked at her. Her hand pulled back a third time, but this time he grabbed her wrist. She grimaced in pain as the large hand squeezed tightly around her flesh.  
  
Her voice was filled with distress, Artemus....you're hurting me.  
  
The alarm she suddenly felt flushed her cheeks with color, and Artie realized what he was doing. He dropped the wrist from his grip, and she rubbed the spot where his fingers had been. He could see a bruise already beginning to form, and remorse filled him.   
  
Her voice was an angry whisper, As soon as Mr. West is able, please leave. And I don't want you working around the saloon any longer. Just pay what you owe to Bill before you go, and make yourself scarce in the meantime.  
  
She turned to leave, but he grabbed her elbow, I didn't mean it. I swear to God I didn't mean it. Noreen turned to face him, and he let go of her, I don't know what's gotten into me, Noreen.... I barely know who I am anymore..... His voice trembled in fear, I feel out of control.  
  
Noreen perceived his sincerity; if nothing else, he was speaking the truth. But such an admission did little to allay the misery she was holding in her heart. She wished Artemus Gordon had never come to Arizona.  
  
I was in love with you.....and I meant nothing.  
  
That isn't true.  
  
But it's not love.  
  
He looked down, his voice a whisper, No, not love.  
  
She ran back inside, covering her mouth to stifle her cries. Artie ran a hand through his thick hair, heaving a deep sigh. No matter what he said, it seemed to make matters worse for her. And yet he did care for her. He wanted to make it up to her, but he couldn't love her. Artie wasn't sure he could ever love anyone again. He didn't know if he would even be able to stay with Jim once he saw him safely back to the train.  
  
His dark thoughts were interrupted by the body slamming hard into his, accompanied by a primal scream of fury. It sent Gordon toppling to the ground, his head connecting hard with the wood of the balcony, dazing him. Bill pounded into his face and mid section as hard as he could with his fists. To his own surprise, Artie didn't fight back. He just lie there, taking the punishment he felt was his due.  
  
You bastard! She loved you and you treated her like some kind of whore. Artie tried to block the punches to his face with his arms, but Bill kept wailing on him. I would do anything to have her look at me the way she looks at you....you bastard. Even now, after you've hurt her so, she still wants you...  
  
Bill landed a solid punch into Artie's stomach, causing the agent to groan in pain. His nose and mouth were bloody, and his ribs felt bruised. Knowing he couldn't take much more abuse, Gordon kicked the man off of him, and rolled over, slowing coming to his knees. The cold metal of the gun barrel on his neck froze him.  
  
Bill's voice shook, Stand up slowly.  
  
Artie did as he was told, coming to his feet carefully.   
  
Put your hands up, where I can see them.  
  
Gordon obeyed. Bill was unsteady as he leveled the gun. Artie guessed he was maybe five feet away; it was doubtful that the man would miss at that distance no matter how badly he was shaking.  
  
Now Bill, you don't want to do this--  
  
--Shut-up. Just keep your mouth shut.  
  
You're not a killer, Bill. I've known killers, and I'm telling you, you just don't have that kind of charm....  
  
Bill cocked the hammer on the gun, and Artie felt his stomach drop to his knees. Maybe he was wrong about Bill the barkeep's charm......   
  
***********


	19. Chapter Nineteen

The voice from the doorway filled Artie with relief.  
  
Put the gun down, Bill.  
  
The barkeep turned to see James West standing behind him, his gun drawn and pointing right at him. Bill kept his weapon trained on Gordon. Jim cocked the hammer.  
  
I said put it down. Now.  
  
Bill stared into Artie's eyes, You filthy bastard, defiling an unsuspecting woman of Noreen's innocence. You bastard. Do you know how much I love her? And you just breeze into town and take her. Filthy bastard....  
  
Jim's voice sounded like steel, I won't tell you again, Bill.  
  
Hands shaking, Bill raised his gun toward Artie, and Jim fired. Noreen screamed from the door, shoved past Jim and ran to Bill, who was shaking his hand. His gun was lying a few feet away on the ground. Noreen took his hand in hers and stroked it lightly.  
  
It's all right Bill, it looks like barely a scratch.  
  
Bill looked into her eyes and smiled, Noreen, I...well, I...  
  
I know. Why didn't you ever tell me?  
  
Bill shrugged, Don't know. Fraid to, I guess.  
  
In slightly stunned amazement, Artie and Jim watched the couple walk from the balcony, all thoughts of either agent far from their minds. Artie shook his head.  
  
Well now I think I've just about seen it all. I really thought he might take a shot at me there for a minute, and at that range, even Bill couldn't have missed.  
  
Jim holstered his gun, I don't know, Artie, his hands were shaking so badly, I'm not sure he could have hit the broad side of a barn, much less you.  
  
West pulled the handkerchief he knew Artie always kept in his pocket, and began to dab at the blood on his partner's face.  
  
Now how did a tiny little guy like that beat you up this badly? Even at your current weight of.... practically nothing, you're still twice his size.  
  
Artie shrugged. Jim held the cloth to Artie's nose, trying to stop the bleeding.  
  
Jim let his concern color his voice, You okay?  
  
Yeah, Jim, I'm just peachy. It looks about as good as it feels.  
  
West smiled at his best friend's sarcastic tone, and put his arm around Gordon's shoulder.  
  
Come on, Artie, let's get you cleaned up. I think I might be up to riding tomorrow.  
  
You sure, Jim? You were wiped out after doing the stairs earlier.  
  
Yeah, but riding....the horse will do most of the work. Besides, he squeezed his friend's neck gently, I think it's time we took our leave of this town. Jim turned Artie to face him, You coming with me? Artie stared at Jim for a moment, and West added, I'll buy you a hot dog...  
  
A small smile turned the corners of Gordon's mouth, Well James, with the promise of such tremendous cuisine, how could I possibly say no?  
  
***********  
Noreen couldn't believe her eyes. She knew it was Artie, and yet, he barely resembled the man she had known. He was clean shaven, looked ten years younger, and was wearing an expensive suit, instead of the torn up old miner's clothes she was used to seeing him in. The suit was about two sizes too large though, attesting to Mr. West's constant complaints about his partner being too thin. In the suit, Noreen could see how much larger Artie usually was, and finally understood West's concern.  
  
Bill had made himself scarce, saying he had a few errands to run. Noreen was thankful for that; it was awkward enough saying good-bye to this man, without Bill witnessing it. Jim followed Gordon down the steps, and at the bottom, he turned to Noreen.  
  
Miss Macrae, I would say it's been a delight, but I think peculiar is a more fitting word to this particular page in my life.  
  
She cleared her throat, Yes Mr. West, I imagine that it was mostly an unpleasant experience for you.  
  
He took her hand in his, and kissed the back of it.  
  
At least the hostess was lovely, and extremely gracious.  
  
Her eyes twinkled with mischief, Would that be gracious when I was slapping your partner's face, or gracious all the time?  
  
Since it wasn't _my_ face taking the beating, Miss Macrae, I can honestly say all the time. He tipped his hat to her and turned to Artie, I'll wait for you at the stable.  
  
Artemus nodded, and then looked down at the floor, uncomfortable facing Noreen, but knowing they both needed the closure. She gently fingered the lapel of his suit.  
  
It's a beautiful fabric.....is this how you normally dress?  
  
His voice was a mere whisper,   
  
She tilted his chin up, so his eyes met hers, I'm sorry that I slapped you.  
  
The corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smile, Sorry once, twice or three times?  
  
She laughed then, Artemus Gordon, you are quite the charmer. And I will always hold a special place for you in my thoughts.  
  
But your heart belongs to Bill?  
  
Yes. Fitting, don't you think?  
  
He really does love you, Noreen. And you deserve someone who loves you like that.  
  
It's funny how the best things in life are often right under our noses, but they're the things we overlook.  
  
How true. He took her hand and kissed it, Stay well, Noreen.  
  
She took his face between her hands and softly kissed his lips.   
  
Mmmm....I like this version better.  
  
So that's another vote against the beard...  
  
You've been polling the local...ladies?  
  
He smiled, Of course not. But my partner's been pretty vocal about disliking the beard.  
  
You don't kiss him, do you?  
  
Artie laughed loudly, He just doesn't like looking at it.  
  
Let me see....  
  
She took his lips with hers once more, this time lingering slightly. When she finally pulled away, they smiled at each other.  
  
  
  
Yes, much better without the beard.  
  
Then I guess we'll stick with the real me. The dark brown eyes gazed into hers, I'm sorry if I hurt you, Noreen, but I'm so glad that I got to know you.  
  
He leaned in, and tenderly kissed her cheek, tipped his hat to her, and walked toward the front doors.   
  
Her voice made him turn, she smiled, No regrets.  
  
The soft baritone repeated, No regrets.  
  
Noreen watched Artie walk out of the saloon and her life forever. And she knew that it had all turned out the way it was meant to. Artemus would never have been happy living her kind of life. He'd always be restless, or bored, and never sure of who he really was...and she'd never know if she was kissing Artemus Gordon, government agent, or Artemus Morgan, endless drifter. She recognized that a part of her would miss him, but hoped that he would find peace back in his world of undercover danger. There was something very special about him.   
  
Perhaps it had just been the softness of his eyes when he smiled.  
  
***********


	20. Epilogue

Jim and Artie stood at attention, although Richmond wasn't really sure if it was out of respect or some kind of stance intended to silently mock him. It mattered not. These two had ignored orders, run off to Arizona, got themselves into trouble, and had basically made his life a living hell for the past three and a half months. His eyes narrowed as they often did when he wanted to appear angry. He stood an inch from Gordon's nose.  
  
You, Mr. Gordon, took a leave of absence without filing so much as a postcard, nevermind the appropriate paperwork. And then, you led your partner on some kind of wild goose chase through the Arizona desert, which culminated in said partner's near fatal demise, and eventual long recovery period. Not to mention the fact that you're at least twenty pounds underweight and would be completely useless in hand-to-hand combat right now. My grandmother could take you on.  
  
Your grandmother, sir? That explains a lot....  
  
Richmond roared, What did you say?  
  
Nothing sir. Nothing.  
  
Richmond turned to West. And you, Agent West, followed your half-baked ham of a partner into the desert and almost got yourself killed. Do either one of you realize the position you've put me in?   
  
The agents knew it was a rhetorical question and remained silent. Richmond paced right in front of them, doing his best to maintain his air of anger. Truth be told, he was relieved to have the two of them back; although he had to admit, the President had been right when he said a strong wind looked like it could knock Gordon over. He had even caught Jim taking sidelong glances at his partner, making sure he was still standing. Finally, the colonel came to a stop right between them.  
  
Well, what have the two of you to say for yourselves?  
  
Artie and Jim glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, neither completely able to hide the mischief and amusement they felt. But it was Artie who finally answered.  
  
Well Colonel, I only came back because Jim promised me a hot dog. Which by the way, is a promise he is yet to make good on....  
  
As Gordon prattled on, Richmond could only roll his eyes. He should have known better than to make any attempt at disciplining either one of them. They were far too incorrigible and knew they were not only _his_ favorite agents, but also the President's. After a few moments, Richmond just raised his hands in the air in defeat.  
  
All right, all right...I give up. The two of you win. We're glad you're back, fellas. But Artemus, I'm not kidding about the weight. I want to see ten pounds on you within two weeks, or I'll pull you from active duty. You get me?  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
Fine then.  
  
Jim piped up, It won't take but a few hot dogs, Colonel. He loves them so much, once he starts he can't stop....right Artie?  
  
Gordon sneered at his partner, and Richmond smiled.  
  
Well that's just fine, because you see, I'm going to have twenty-five pounds of them loaded onto this train this afternoon. And you, Gordon, you're going to eat each and every last one of them by the time you boys hit San Francisco.  
  
Richmond stalked off the train, and Artie glared at his partner.  
  
Twenty-five pounds of frankfurters? I'm turning green just thinking about them....  
  
Jim patted his partner's back, Cheer-up, Artie, at least now you can really say you've gone to the dogs!  
  
Artie glared at his partner. Jim walked toward the stable car, and Gordon could hear his laughter permeate the train. An impish grin turned up the corners of Artie's mouth. They would just see who would be more smug after a few days of rotting frankfurters hidden throughout Jim's cabin.  
  
The train chugged along the track, a storm brewing several miles away. The smoke from the engine puffed into the air, mixing with the gray of the clouds overhead. The clap of thunder rolled through the cars, followed by a bolt of lightening, which illuminated the train's interior. A moment later, it started to rain.  
  
The End


End file.
